


Sempre pp

by brittenb



Category: Classical Music RPF
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Musical References, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittenb/pseuds/brittenb
Summary: New York, 1940. What happened after the first run-through of Britten's Michelangelo Sonnets.
Relationships: Benjamin Britten/Peter Pears
Kudos: 4





	Sempre pp

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I have ever written... Please leave a comment!

The final, sempre pp notes died away, and Ben turned his gaze at last to his singer. He was met with a glowing look of wonder, pride, and love. Ben's insides clenched with happiness. This beautiful creature, his muse and his lover, had now proved himself an ideal interpreter.

“Darling, you are quite extraordinary,” he murmured, reaching for his lover's hand. Peter smiled self-deprecatingly. 

“I hope I didn't mess it up too much,” the singer mumbled. “It's quite a tour de force, bee, I fear it's still beyond me. But the music! Oh, darling, it's just –”

Ben cut off his lover's praise by holding a finger to his lips. 

“It's all you, love,” he whispered, pulling the singer gently down onto the piano stool next to him. “It's all for you, and it all originates with you. And believe you me, you sing it gorgeously. Perfectly.”

His lover smiled again and lowered his head, touched, and humbled by this obvious exaggeration – that top B really did need some loosening up, and he was sure he'd messed up the words in the fourth song – 

His thoughts were cut off again as Ben softly raised his chin with a finger, playfully raising his eyebrows – he knew just what had been going on in Peter's mind – before his look turned more serious, his eyes flickering to his lover's lips. Ever so slowly he leaned in, capturing Peter's mouth in a warm kiss. 

Now it was Peter's insides that turned over, overwhelmed; overwhelmed by the passionate declaration of faith and love for his voice and his self that was the cycle itself, by its open dedication, there for all the world to see: 'To Peter', by the elation and excitement of this, their first full run-through, and by this unanticipated response to his efforts from its creator. When they finally broke apart all he could do was whisper, tears caught in his throat, “Thank you. Thank you, my love.”

He pulled Ben into his arms, kissing him passionately, trying to express his feelings through lips and hands, one holding his lover’s delicate hand, the other fondling his close-shorn curls. Ben responded enthusiastically, littering his lover's face and neck with kisses, and soon they were both flushed and panting for breath, Ben almost in Peter's lap. 

They broke apart again at length, gazing into each other's eyes, each seeing a reflection of his own lust-filled look. Peter guided his lover's hand to where he was straining against the flannel of his trousers, and with a jerk of his head suggested they move from their awkward position at the piano to the comfort of the sofa. Ben understood, and rising to his feet and pulling Peter up, kissed him heatedly again and again as he undid the buttons of both their shirts, pulling Peter's off as he guided him to the sofa. He gently pushed his lover into a sitting position, and, standing before him, slowly pulled off his own shirt, unbuttoned his trousers and let them fall to the floor, and finally freed his erection from his underwear, tossing them aside. Peter gazed up at him, surprised. Ben never dislayed such exhibitionism, and very rarely took the lead in their sexual exploits. But as Peter moved forward to clasp the beautiful body to himself, Ben shook his head and pushed him back against into the sofa. Then, smirking at the look on his lover's face, he knelt down between his legs, leaning forward to kiss him softly at the sensitive spot behind his jawbone where his pulse was throbbing, but letting no other part of their bodies touch. Peter let out a soft moan, his hips jerking forward involuntarily, yearning for contact. But Ben simply put his hands over his lover's wrists, imprisoning them against his sides, as he slowly kissed his way down Peter's body. He flicked his tongue experimentally over his lover's nipples, smiling to himself when Peter gasped and shivered. 

When he reached the line of Peter’s trousers, Ben looked up sternly, pressing against his lover's wrists to show that he was not to move, before removing his hands and gently unbuttoning and removing Peter’s trousers. He coaxed Peter's legs wider and bent down to kiss his straining dick through the material of his underwear, cupping his balls in one hand, and beginning to pull down the fabric with the other. Suddenly he sat up again and detached himself, contemplating, eliciting a needy groan from Peter, before he quietly manoeuvred his lover so that he was lying down, his head resting on the low arm of the sofa. Then he skilfully peeled off his lover's underwear, and settled himself again between his legs. Again he bent down, tantalisingly kissing everywhere but where Peter needed him to, holding his hips in position. When Peter could no longer hold still, and began bucking his hips despite himself, Ben raised the fingers of his left hand to his mouth, and carefully sucked on them, spreading spit between each of them, all the while gazing with hooded eyes into the astonished, desperate eyes of his lover.

Peter let out of gasp of surprise as Ben reached down and began to stroke his perineum, and then a beautiful moan as Ben pushed a slick finger through the tight ring of muscle, at the same time encasing Peter's dick in the hot wetness of his mouth. Peter could never get over the feeling of his lover's mouth around him, the skilful way his tongue flicked over the head, and the glorious pressure and movement as he sucked at him. But the finger inside him was completely new; it had always been he that pleasured Ben this way, and who finally made love to him. The new sensation made him moan and gasp, a continuous babble of musical sounds that made Ben impossibly hot and hard, incensing his sucking and encouraging him to push in another finger, and then another. Peter was already close, his moans getting louder and louder, when suddenly Ben found the bundle of nerves deep inside him, and he cried out, “Yes!” and promptly came in his lover's mouth. 

The usual feeling of heavy contentment immediately stole over him, now punctuated by the incredible feeling of Ben's fingers deep inside him, still caressing the nerve-centre, overloading his senses with too much pleasure. The almost pained look on his face made Ben gently pull his fingers out, and it was only now that Peter noticed that Ben had also come, thrilled by his lover's reaction and needing no friction of his own. This made Peter's dick twitch and begin to harden anew, and he knew it would only be a few minutes before he was ready again. Meanwhile, he gently pulled his lover on top of him, exploring his mouth with his tongue, further excited by the taste of himself there. He then gently extricated himself, wiping Ben's cum off his own stomach with his discarded underwear, before cleaning Ben's stomach and limp cock lovingly with his tongue.

When he felt Ben's cock starting to respond, he himself became fully hard, and releasing his lover he knelt between his legs, putting his own fingers into his wet mouth before lifting his lover's knees up over his shoulders. He leaned forward and swallowed Ben's moan in a kiss as he began to massage his perineum, and reverently kissed his lover's forehead and flickering eyelids as he pushed his fingers in one by one, gently scissoring them and stretching his entrance. As he slowly pulled his fingers out, he once again encased Ben's lips with his own, distracting him from the sudden feeling of emptiness with a loving kiss. He then carefully lined himself up, spreading the pre-cum leaking from his slit over his cock, before bending down over his lover's face, his hands on either side of Ben's head, and whispering dirtily, “Do you want me to fuck you, Ben? Do you want my cock inside you?”

Ben didn't blush as he usually did, so aroused and encouraged as he was by the success of his earlier experiment, and instead managed to choke out, “Please Peter, I need your cock inside me.”

Peter grinned wickedly, and, with the singular pleasure of one who has spent many a time preparing the way so that one day he may not hesitate or wait for adjustment, slowly pushed his cock all the way inside Ben, until both men were panting and gasping from the sensation of completeness. He held himself there for an impossibly long moment, until Ben gasped out, “Please, darling, move!”

He soon found a rhythm, allegro ma non troppo, grazing his lover's prostate on every third or fourth stroke, glorying in the tightness of his lover and his certainty that he could last a good long time like this. At length he made a gradual accelerando, responding to Ben's movements and moans, until he was moving deep and fast inside his lover, barely pulling out, hitting his Ben’s prostate on every stroke. Ben grunted and gasped, “Yes, yes, oh, God, yes!” while Peter erratically kissed his neck and chest. Ben came first, crying out his lover's name, and it was this, and the clamping down of Ben's muscles around him, that sent Peter over the edge, riding out his orgasm for as long as he could. 

Afterwards he lovingly went through the ritual of cleaning Ben with his tongue, licking every trace of his own cum out of his exhausted lover, before pulling him over him, curly head resting on smooth chest. 

“It'll always be you, my love,” Ben muttered sleepily. “Always my Peter Pears. Sempre pp.”

It was with a thrill of pleasure that Peter comprehended the hidden meaning in the final dynamic direction of the cycle, and he kissed his lover's hair reverently before they both drifted off to sleep.


End file.
